Last week my bumper detached itself from my car while on the highway. No kidding. It just fell right off. I heard a crash and thought to myself, “hmmm…I didn’t feel an impact..” look in the rear-view mirror and there my bumper was-spiraling down the highway in the opposite direction.
My poor Malibu, who I call Mally, has had a rough go. She was hit by another driver last spring while minding her own business (in her parking spot) and left to sit there, without any witness to who did it, bumper scratched and hanging off until I found her hours later. After I expelled my rage through fist movements, and curse words hammering through my brain until my face went red, I re-attached my poor Chevy’s bumper, and with blackened hands drove her home. Since then the bumper has never been on quite right, since I did it myself and should have taken it to a professional bumper reconstructionalist.
I suppose I had it coming that day, whipping down the highway at 70 mph, Mally’s bumper being tested against the velocity of my high-class Chevy Malibu. Once I U-turned and maneuvered the bumper into my backseat, I headed to work, not before calling my boss and explaining the situation.
It was an adventure to say the least, and if anything it has become more of an adventure explaining to friends and family alike why I am now driving a Transformer.
